Living up to the Legend
by Apricots-from-Nara
Summary: Rodimus Prime and Ultra Magnus have been together from the beginning. Even before Ultra Magnus was just a mech in a suit.


"Ultra Magnus is dead."

Hot Rod blinked, looking up at Optimus. "He... What?" the young mech's tank churned and he felt ill. "Where... Where is he?"

"We... Could not retrieve his remains. I am sorry Hot Rod. I know the two of you were very close." Optimus Prime set his hand on Hot Rod's shoulder, giving it a soft squeeze. "We will be having a eulogy for him in a day or two. I hope you can speak for him."

Hot Rod nodded. "Yeah... I suppose I can." the speedster watched Optimus leave, his optics stinging with tears. He hated this war now. He hated the Decepticons. They had been more then close. They had been lovers for a long while.

Hot Rod had never been one to stick to one person, but he'd be damned if he didn't care a lot about Ultra Magnus. More then he had ever cared for anyone. Sure he was a bit of a stick in the mud, but he was HIS stick in the mud.

And now he was gone.

* * *

"What do you mean Ultra Magnus is here?" Hot Rod asked, staring at Prowl with wide optics. "Optimus said..."

"I know what he said. But Magnus just... Turned up again." Prowl scowled disdainfully, "I suppose you want to see him. He's in the office down the main hall. Third door on the right."

Hot Rod was out the door like a shot, skidding into a wall as he turned the corner. He fumbled with the door controls before stumbling into the office. He nearly choked. There he was, alive and looking at him with a quizzical scowl.

"Hot Rod. Is there something you needed?"

It was him. It was him! Hot Rod quickly got on the desk, wiping off datapad as he grabbed Magnus' chassis, servos digging into the blue metal. "You stupid piece of slag every one told me you were dead! I was sparkbroken!"

Magnus' optics grow wide. "Sparkbroken?" he looked confused, like he was just shoved a huge bit of information he didn't know what to do with.

"Shut up and kiss me already! Its been six slagging months!" Hot Rod leaned forward, capturing the larger's lips in a hungry kiss. He pulled away when Magnus pushed on his shoulders. "What is it?"

"So... We are a couple?"

The question was odd for only a second, but then Hot Rod realized they had never made it entirely official. "Yes! Oh pits yes." He leaned back in, and this time Magnus kissed him back.

He heard the ping of an internal comm come from Magnus. He was sending someone a message. Probably telling Prowl to not bother them.

As their kissing grew more intense Hot Rod heard more pings. Magnus was having an internal conversation with someone. He pulled away. "Work can wait Mags."

"This is important Hot Rod. I need to... tell someone that we are together. It is of the utmost importance." Ultra Magnus said slowly. He was picking his words very carefully "It will... Make my work easier if I am hurt again."

Hot Rod nodded. It didn't make much sense to him. But he trusted Magnus. "Yeah. Sure what ever. Just frag me on this desk."

There was another ping, which made Hot Rod scowl. "Seriously?"

"Just telling them the extent of our relationship. Thats all." he allowed himself a small smirk. "Now... Where were we?"

It was still so weird. But Hot Rod didn't care. His Mags was alive and back.

* * *

Hot Rod soon learned his Ultra Magnus was a tough nut. When he was again told of his lovers death, and he began to morn, the Duly Appointed Enforcer of the Tyrest Accord was back a week later. Alive and well. Not a scratch on him

He was a bit awkward when they interfaced the night he had returned and he even cracked a joke at one point (something Mangus had never done before), but Hot Rod was too happy to care.

And it went on like that. Ultra Magnus became a bit of a living legend. An immortal fighter. And Hot Rod was so proud to be his lover. He stopped worrying if he would come back, because to him, those legends were very true.

Ultra Magnus would always come back to him. Sometimes a bit different then before, but if he was having near death experiences it would make sense.

He wasn't good with that whole mental health thing honestly. But thats what the psychoanalyst had told him.

He was back again. Back from the grave. Hot Rod opened the door to Magnus' office, smiling broadly. "Hey Mags. Glad to see you living up to your legend, eh?"

"Don't call me Mags."

Hot Rod blinked, frowning. That was... Unexpected. Ultra Magnus wasn't even looking at him. Too focussed on reports. That was also unexpected. Hot Rod walked into the room, leaning on the desk heavily.

"What do you mean don't call you Mags? You like it when I call you Mags." Hot Rod put a knee on the desk, intending to jump on it.

"Don't. The desk is not for sitting on." Magnus finally looked at him, scowling, "You will ruin the order I put the datapads in."

"That didn't bother you before." Hot Rod was confused. Magnus was being more stern then what was ever normal. More orderly. He shook his head. He was probably just a bit out of it. He had taken a shot to the head and torso in his last 'death' if reports were true.

With that though Hot Rod jumped onto the desk, ignoring the flabbergasted sound Magnus made as he swiped the datapads off the desk. He smiled, his hands grabbing the wide chassis. "Didn't you miss me, Mags? Come on Frag me on the desk like you always do."

"That is a breach in protocol. Its practically interfacing in public. Section 23, article-" Magnus was cut off as Hot Rod leaned in and kissed him. He let out a low grumble, but kissed him back.

Hot Rod pulled away briefly, smiling a slag eating grin. "You never quoted the Autobot Code before. That your Idea of dirty talk?" he laughed as the scowl on Ultra Magnus' face grew even deeper. "Don't be such a stick in the mud and lighten up. Whats gotten into you?"

"It's... It's nothing Hot Rod." Magnus pulled him back in for a kiss. He was awkward, and when Hot Rod tried to push his glossa past Magnus' lips he had shuddered, yanking his head back a bit.

But he came back after a few moments. He shuddered when Hot Rod tried again, but he didn't pull away that time. And soon they were kissing each other with open mouths, glossa exploring.

Magnus grimaced as they parted, optics focused on a string of oral lubricants that connected their mouths. Since when did he get so squeamish about a bit of a mess? Was it the shot to the head? Maybe it fried some circuits and messed him up a bit.

"You sure you're okay?" Hot Rod wiped his mouth, smiling, "If you need more time to recover its okay."

Magnus looked back at him, letting out a loud vent. "No. No Its alright. I'm recovered."

Hot Rod pet Magnus' face, leaning in and kissing the corner of his mouth. "Alright. I'm so glad you came back, Mags. You always do but I can't help but worry."

Ultra Magnus let out another vent, a large white hand rubbing Rodimus' spinal strut soothingly. "I know. I am... Sorry for worrying you." his other hand joined the first, taking Hot Rod by the middle and pulling him off the desk and into his lap.

Hot Rod smirked, his panel clicking open. Magnus vented again, but after a moment his own opened as well, his half pressurized spike rising to nudge at the speedster's valve.

"We don't have to do it on the desk do we?" he asked after a moment, "I don't want it dirty."

Hot Rod laughed. "No. No we can do it like this. I want you to hold me." he kissed Magnus again, groaning into his mouth as he impaled himself onto the impressive spike. Magnus seemed to have come back different yet again.

But he was alive. And that was all that mattered to Hot Rod.

* * *

Rodimus Prime held his face in his hands, sighing heavily and tiredly. So much had been forced on to him at once, and it hurt his head. He looked past his fingers at the green mech that sat in front of him. He was no longer as tiny as before, but he still was not back to being Ultra Magnus yet.

"I'm sorry." Rodimus blurted.

Minimus Ambus blinked. "Why are you sorry Rodimus? I am the one who-"

Rodimus cut Ambus off. "Was it like... Required of you to be with me? Did your job mean that you had to interface with me?"

Ambus seemed to register what was being asked of him and why. "It was. After the original Ultra Magnus died, the first bearer of the armor had informed Tyrest of the relationship you had with him. It became... Required for all bearers to be with you."

Rodimus' tank churned. "So then-"

"Rodimus, I love you." Ambus said sternly, standing up. "Yes. At first it was just my job. But I love you. We all... We all loved you very much. Even if you are a brat."

He rested a hand on Rodimus' elbow. He didn't smile, but he ran his hand up to Rodimus's chin, taking it in his servos as he leaned forward and kissed him. "I love you." Ambus enforced, "I am not forcing myself to be with you. Don't ever think other wise."

Rodimus nodded, biting his lip. He smiled after a few more soft kisses. "I'm so glad. I'm so glad you are not dead."

"I need to live up to my legend, Rodimus. You know that."


End file.
